Underworld Ascension: Martial Arts System

Tae blinked in rythm to the pounding in his head, feeling his head ache and a constant throbbing behind his eyes. His senses were dulled, reality blurred by the slow throb of pain and lingering sorrow. He was only barely aware of the blindfold pressing into his face, blocking out whatever strange place he was in.

His fingers twitched, numb and cold as he registered the soft fabric, grasping it in an automatic motion as he pulled it from his eyes.

Bright light flooded in, stinging. He shielded his face, letting his eyes adjust. 

Gradually, he lowered his hand, squinting as he took in the stark white walls, the emptiness interrupted only by a solid metal door. 

There was no sign of that woman—only lingering unease, choking in the still air.

Suddenly, a voice rang out, low and disembodied, crackling over an unseen speaker.

"You have been selected to receive an opportunity," the voice announced, it sounded cold and detached. It had the same clinical disinterest of someone reciting a set of instructions. "But only one of you will earn it. To determine who is most deserving, you must compete against one another. Prove that you are the one most driven… most desperate to win."

Tae's expression barely shifted, his mind turning over the words with a detached, dark sort of calm. That woman, he thought, her face flickering in his mind—the smirk, the glint in her eyes as she'd swung that pipe. 

Of course this was her doing. His jaw clenched as he scanned the room, his eyes tracing over the walls as if they might reveal something, anything about this place.

The voice continued, droning on without pause. "A test of your resolve is required. In a few moments, each of you will step into a new room to face an opponent."

A dull clang sounded above him, metal hitting the floor with a sharp echo. Tae's gaze flickered down to where a knife lay, its cold metal reflecting the white lights.

"The weapon before you is optional," the voice intoned. "In moments, the door will open, and you will encounter another challenger. If neither contestant chooses a weapon, you will face each other barehanded and avoid a fatal battle. However, if your opponent selects a weapon and you do not, you will be at a disadvantage. Consider your choice carefully."

A beat passed, the voice lingering in the air.

"You have ten seconds."

Tae's gaze lingered on the knife, and for a long moment, he stood there, the silence stretching as he considered the choice before him. So this is it, he thought, his mind as calm and dark as his expression. 

You take the knife or you don't. Fight to survive or give up. He could almost feel the emptiness inside him widen at the thought, but it didn't scare him, not anymore.

===

In another room lined with monitors, the woman with white hair leaned forward, watching as the figures on the screens shifted, each of them facing the same choice. She smirked, her eyes flicking over the contestants, each one clutching the knife in their hands, every face drawn tight with anticipation or fear.

"Well, there you have it," she remarked to the shadowed man beside her, a trace of satisfaction in her tone. "They all took the knife. Good to know we're dealing with people who understand the stakes."

The man shifted, the faint glint of his eyes catching the light as he tilted his head toward one of the screens. "Not all of them," he said softly, his voice laced with a quiet, almost curious intrigue.

The woman frowned, her gaze snapping to the screen he was watching. There, amid a dozen hands holding knives, stood one figure, his hands empty, his face hard, unreadable.

"Is he serious?" she muttered, disbelief covering her face. She leaned forward, squinting at the monitor. "What the hell is he thinking?"

The man beside her only smiled, intrigue in his eyes. "Who knows?" he murmured, a quiet satisfaction settling in his tone. "But I think we'll find out soon enough."

Meanwhile, Tae stepped forward as the metal door before him slid open with a low, mechanical hiss. Beyond it, a second white room stretched out, identical to the first, aside for the figure standing across from him.

His opponent looked to be around his age, maybe a little older, his arms covered in sprawling tattoos, the ink snaking up from his wrists to his biceps. His dark hair was pulled back in a messy knot, and his face twisted into a grin as his eyes fell on Tae.

The boy laughed, a harsh, almost relieved sound, his grip on the knife loosening slightly. "You didn't even pick up the weapon? Damn," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Guess I got lucky with an idiot."

Tae looked at him, his expression flat, eyes hard and distant. There was no anger in his face, no flicker of fear or hesitation—just a deep, simmering disdain that darkened his gaze.

"Are we fighting or not?" he muttered, his voice carrying something off, something restless.

His opponent's grin faltered, surprise flashing in his eyes before he recovered, sneering. "Sure thing," he smirked, brandishing the knife as he stepped forward. "I'll make it quick."

Tae watched him, his stance relaxed, his hands loose at his sides as he watched the boy advance, eyes tracking his every move with a quiet, chilling intensity.

In the observation room, the white-haired woman watched the scene unfold, her brows furrowed as she leaned forward, her eyes locked onto Tae. "He's not even reacting," she muttered, her voice low, laced with a touch of bewildered fascination. 

"It's like he's… waiting."